Wednesday, September 15, 2004

Sprain in the Ass

I don't know how it happened, but I managed to wake up with a sprained wrist a few days ago. I have a feeling it's from resting my bosom's girth upon the fragile, delicate meeting of my arm to hand, and waking up to a blue shriveled dead limb the next morning. (Best thing ever: When you wake up to one completely numb arm, your other arm can hold its unfeeling hand and pretend it's that of your fake boyfriend's. Worst thing ever: When the feeling comes back to your arm, but not to your heart.)

P.S.: Possible Rosh Hashanah gift for me: The Japanese Boyfriend Pillow. For serious, it has an alarm clock where the arm "gently wakes you." Hoping they add the feature where the arm "slaps you hard across the back of the head" to snap you back into reality.

Aaaaanyway, now my wrist is slightly sprained/pulled, and it's hell on earth people. Even the smallest of gestures (used to tell a barely amusing watercooler story or flip the bird at the back of a co-worker) brings a shooting pain to my body. Life as it was is no longer.

But I must. Keep. Going.

- Tipping the Jails: A New York man is arrested after not tipping the required 18% gratuity for his party of 9. (See an update here.) Really though, if small tips were enough to send you to jail, my Grandfather would be on Death Row. (Ever try to sneak in an extra couple bucks on the table behind the bad tippers back? Yeah, they really don't like that.)

- Speaking of unfair jail time: Inmates at an Indiana prison are now allowed to keep pet cats in their cells. Apparently the cats lower their stress, keep the inmates subdued, and are nearly invisible when smuggling tiny bags of heroin from cell to cell in their tiny kitty intestines.

- And just when you thought I was through with funny jail stories: Elderly people: You can't live with em. You can't suffocate them in their sleep for their insurance policies. Luckily, their feet are in prime position for some good old fashioned bucket kicking. Where was I? Jails, right! A busload of elderly tourists got lost in an Australian prison yesterday, after thinking it was a Truck Stop. Now that I think about it, truck stops and prisons have a lot more in common than you would think. (Picture guy-on-guy humping.)

Grandma Miriam: "I'll Cut You, Bitch!"

- Pacifiers could teach babies how to eat. I don't know -- my own mother skipped on the pacifiers, instead lulling me into submission using mouthfuls of marshmallow fluff, and on good days, pork chops. I turned out fine! Or did I?

- Now, nerds can discover the wonderful benefits of radio... (If the picture below isn't compelling enough for you to click on this link, you're wasting your time here.)

- From the NY Post: "A Santiago, Chile artist's new pieces are all made of meat, including a scene from 'Little Red Riding Hood' in which the wolf, whose ears are made of bacon, is hiding under covers made of ham..." Journalism at its finest people. I'm not being sarcastic.

- Hot Off the Dresses!: 'Slutwear' Is So Last Year on New York Runways. Still a very popular choice on New York sidewalks, though.

Captain Hooker: Not Seen on the Runways

- A recent study has shown that Americans get plenty of sleep and watch too much TV. What?! That's ridiculous!! Why I... i... (snoring. snoring.) Huh? Wha? (hard blink.) Oh hi. Oh look, The View is on! (watching tv. small smirk. watching some more. wondering how Star Jones lugs herself into work every day. then, more sleeping.)

Star Jones and a Joy "To Behold" Behar

- Yet another pointless study explains that it is not the size of your nose, but in fact the size of ones nostrils, that determines a persons sense of smell. Either way, keep your first born away from this guy:

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